#no matter how she changes or how she forgets

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Good Luck, Babe!- Epilogue (1)

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan

Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.

What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?

Chapter 9- 10.1k Words- This chapter contains 18+ Smut

Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 8

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Plot (with brief reference to homophobic parents) before eventual 18+ Smut, Thigh Riding, Fingering, Oral sex, Soft smut, Insecurities about body image, Reference to poor previous relationships, Aftercare. 

---

The sound of a knock at your door drew your attention away from your task at hand, hand pausing with the wooden spoon still in the pot of boiling water, the pasta still swirling around in the water as you halted, eyes flickering over to the clock and brows furrowing at who could possibly be knocking on your door so late. Swiftly, you lowered the heat on the pan before wiping your hands with a cloth, carrying it mindlessly with you to the door to answer, the questions arising in your mind answered as you opened the door, revealing auburn hair that you failed to stop being in awe of.

The warmth that escaped you in your past resurfaced as you made eye contact with the green of Wanda’s eyes, the sight alone of the mesmerising shade wrapping tendrils of love around your heart as you offered her a gentle smile, your eyes instantly taking the hint of apprehension and hesitancy written across her angelic features, gripping your attention as your brows furrowed once more. Wanda shuffled slightly under your enamoured gaze, still not quite used to the sheer amount of emotion you could express with a look before returning your tender expression, the uneasy feeling within her diminishing slightly as she took note of the tea towel in your hand, oblivious to Lucky who was now by your side trying to steal the item.

“Hey,” you softly murmur as you eventually feel the item slipping out of your hand, your gaze only briefly flickering away from the other woman before naturally being drawn back, still unable to stop the longing inside you to appreciate every moment you spent with her. “Is everything ok?” Your tone is laced with concern to match with the look on your face, Wanda’s chest blooming with warmth at your care, her eyes drifting away from you as she contemplated her answer, still trying to adjust to the change in your relationship.

It had only been a couple weeks since the two of you confessed to each other, two weeks since she had finally muttered the words ‘I love you’ and learnt to accept herself, two weeks since she discovered that there was nothing else in the world other than you she wanted as she somehow managed to fall even more in love with you. It was overwhelming, the innate desire within her to be with you, the yearning of the last twelve years almost nothing in comparison to the affection and warmth she’d feel in your presence, her soul desperate for you. The two of you were taking things slow, not wanting to overstep a boundary or rush into anything as you were both mature enough to realise there was more pressing matters in your lives to attend to, Wanda spending most of her time trying to have a civil conversation with Vision about the divorce or with Jennifer to figure out the logistics whilst you had been annoyingly busy with work. The reason and logic however didn’t seem to agree with Wanda’s heart though as she wanted more than rushed moments with you due to life, she wanted to be with you, to feel the comfort you provided but she was still unsure of how to do so, her relationship with Vision making it hard for her to ask for things she wanted. She knew you were different but she was still scared of the rejection she had grown used to.

“Yeah I just- I had a long day and I...” She starts, trailing off as she lifts her gaze to meet yours, hoping her green conveyed what she wanted to say. I’ve missed you.

Just as you always had been able to, you were able to read her like a book, catching the look in her eye and smiling at her comfortingly, stepping to the side and motioning with your head for her to come in as you could tell she just wanted to be with you. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want the same, shutting the door behind her and encouraging her to make herself at home as you wandered back to the kitchen to check on the food you were making, checking to see if you had made enough to feed her as well.

The last two weeks had be the same kind of torture for you, your body and mind unable to stop thinking about her, something you were fond of but also a little embarrassed about, feeling as though you were a teenager once again, infatuated with the girl next door and crushing hard. You were hopelessly in love with her and it proved to be harder than you thought not being with her, even if she was only next door. You also longed to spend time with her, to learn about her day, to ease her worries, to reminisce on the past and form new memories together, yet time hadn’t been on your side at the moment but hopefully tonight would be different and the start of something new.

“Have you eaten yet?” You ask in a soft questioning voice, your back to Wanda as she took residence at the kitchen island, perching on a stool and taking in your house once more, never properly appreciating all the little décor that just made it so you. A genuine smile graced her lips at your question, the natural care you showed her making her realise how little she was shown any sort of affection as you looked over your shoulder at her, taking in the sight of her.

“Not yet,” she answers, resting her head against her hand as she gets comfortable, leaning against the countertop and watching the back of you as you moved about, part of her a little excited at the fact that someone else would be cooking her dinner for once, a privilege she wasn’t presented with much. “I just got back from dropping the twins off at my parents,” she explains, a sour tone hinted in her voice making your brow raise, gathering that must have been one of the issues that stressed her out, waiting a moment to see if she wanted to talk about it and get it off her chest.

“I told them everything,” she whispers after a moment, her fingers mindlessly rubbing against her finger, so used to spinning the wedding ring that used to be there when she was anxious, a habit she never seemed to grow out of. Your eyes widened at her words, not wanting to jump to complete conclusions as you turned to face her, your face nothing but reassuring to her as her fingers continued to trace one another. The fact that a simple look from you could ease the storm raging on inside Wanda’s head calmed her, the fact that you were willing to just listen to her, to soothe her making her appreciate you all the more as you patiently stood opposite her, pulling her out of her insecure and doubtful thoughts.

“How did they take it?” You gently ask, checking on the ravioli before pushing yourself away from the stove, slowly making your way over to her till you were stood by her side, fingers brushing back her auburn locks. It felt natural to touch her lovingly, intimately as your hand instinctively moved to cup her jaw, letting her lean into your soothing touch, her eyes fluttering shut as her hand placed itself above yours, revelling in the warmth of your skin.

“They took the divorce better than I expected,” she huffs out, pressing her cheek a little more into your palm as her mind recalls the events of the last few hours, the plan simply being to drop the twins off for a sleepover and inform her parents of the upcoming changes. She remembers vividly the surprise that washed through her at the lack of animosity or irritation from her parents after telling them, the way her mother seemed to share a look of mutual understanding with her before letting her gaze drift to her husband, the sight stirring something uneasy in Wanda before she continued, suddenly building up the courage to confess more, naively thinking she was having a good moment with them.

Your thumb comfortingly brushed against her impossibly soft skin as she spoke, knowing it must have been hard to talk to her family about the situation, knowing that she had always felt such an immense pressure from them. You wished she didn’t try to carry the weight of her world on her shoulders alone, wanting to offer her support when others should have, to let her know that there was nothing ever wrong with her, she wasn’t a failure. She never would be to you.

“They didn’t react so well to you… to us,” Wanda manages out after a moment, a deep and heavy sigh escaping her lips as your face pulls into a look of shock that she had actually told them but also a saddened smile, knowing that it must have been a horrible experience for her.

Wanda had to block out the sudden outburst from her parents as they reacted to her words, the twins playing elsewhere and leaving her vulnerable to the words her father and mother spat at her, the words familiar as they had been thoughts that haunted her mind throughout the entirety of her life. She refused to believe them anymore, the cruel manner in which they were spoken to her still tugging painfully on her heart though, the other woman just wishing her parents could see that she was happy with you. Surely all they should want is her to be happy?

“Pietro said he would talk to them but I just-” She cuts herself off with an exasperated sigh, your lips instinctively pressing to her temple, taking in the brief scent of her sweet shampoo before pulling back, wanting to look her in the eye as you spoke.

“I know,” you murmur in understanding, her form instantly relaxing at not having to try and verbalise her thoughts, her green eyes flickering between your lips and eyes as she savours your touch, fuelling the fire in her heart. “Just so you know, I am so proud of you for everything,” you whisper in an honest and adoring tone, gaze overflowing with so much love it makes Wanda’s breath hitch, the words, the affirmation meaning the world to her as she feels herself finally being cared for. “For admitting it to yourself, for telling them. I know it’s hard but I promise you, I’ll be with you the entire way,” Wanda can’t stop the appreciative smile that tugs at her lips as she peers up at you in a look that can only be described as enamoured, her face turning slightly to press a kiss to your hand before she moves to stand, encouraging you to take a small step back as she lets her body sink into your embrace.

Her arms snake around your waist and as she holds onto you tight, simply needing to be close to you, to bask in your warmth and safety as your words resonate with her, dissipating the doubts that threatened to pick away at her mind as she focussed on you, on the way your hands delicately ran up and down her back, your body gently swaying hers.

“That’s all I could ever want,” she whispers against your shoulder, voice barely audible but loud enough for you to hear as you both relish in the lovers embrace, savouring the feeling of your bodies perfectly slotted against each other like the final piece of a puzzle.

***

A little while later, empty plates fill the sink as yours and Wanda’s laughter echoes around the room, love and warmth bubbling inside you both at the domesticity of the moment as you tidy up after dinner, green eyes trained on you as you move around the kitchen. Wanda couldn’t help but stare at you, constantly amazed at how she could feel something so passionate and powerful inside her towards you, her heart fluttering in her chest as you looked over your shoulder at her once more, casual smile tugging at your lips. It was intoxicating, the sheer amount of comfort you provided, her eyes settling on your lips, watching as they moved but not quite taking the words in as Wanda admired the plumpness of them, the way the corner of your lips tugged up at her oblivious state, her mind replaying the many times they had brushed hers.

Only once her gaze eventually drifted higher did she meet the expectant and playful look in your eyes, each swirl glimmering with a teasing glint as her cheeks flushed red, your hands motioning for her to pick between the two bottles of wine you had picked up. Her brow raised at your fine taste as she subconsciously bit down on her lip, trying to decide and unknowingly setting your body alight at the action, your gaze mirroring her earlier one and zoning in on her lips, memories of them ghosting yours cruelly filling your mind as heat settled within you. God she was beautiful, her auburn locks perfectly framing her face, eyes filled with concentration as she analysed the two bottles, her teeth pressing against her lower lip subtly, it was too much. You craved to feel her lips pressing against yours, to thread your fingers through her hair but you knew better than to rush anything, wanting to take it at her pace.

Instead of walking up to her and kissing her with all the emotions swirling inside you, you poured her a glass of wine as she requested, encouraging her to go into the living room and make herself comfortable whilst you brought them in, moving to sit next to her on the sofa. Wanda seemed to appreciate the action as she naturally moved closer to you, your fingers brushing as you handed her the glass, the delicate touch enough to send sparks throughout you both as your gazes meet, conveying more than words ever could.

Part of you didn’t want to break the longing look as you took in every shade of green but you decided to at the sudden tension building in the room as Wanda let her gaze drift to your lips again, her eyes darkening a little in desire and making it hard for you to keep your composure. You focussed on putting on an old sitcom you knew she loved to distract yourself, your eyes scanning the screen of the Tv to find the show whilst also noticing her in the corner of your eyes, her gaze still firmly locked on you as she sipped from her wine, seemingly contemplating something in her mind.

“You’re staring again,” you murmur in a gentle tease, turning your head slightly to meet her flustered expression at having been caught again, mirth evident in your features as her cheeks tinted pink, one of her fingers tracing the rim of the glass as she held it with the other, slender digits wrapping around the item.

“Admiring,” she corrects, “I was admiring you,” her teasing smile a sign of her amusement as she leans back against the sofa, keeping her gaze on you before briefly looking over at the Tv as to what you were doing. “I didn’t think you’d remember,” she whispers almost in a confession and slightly confused tone at the fact you had memorised her favourite show, her heart skipping a beat at the fact you had paid so much attention to her that even after years, you still knew the subtle things she enjoyed.

“It would be hard to forget as it was the only thing you ever talked about,” you taunted, recalling the many nights where she’d simply tell you the plot of her favourite episodes as you enjoyed hearing her rave on about the show, the enthusiasm and passion adorable to you as you would watch her with a loving look, wanting to hear her talk forever.

“It wasn’t the only thing,” she mumbled back in response, taking another sip of her wine as your smile grew, your body moving momentarily to place your glass down on the table and out of the way.

“Oh yeah?” Your tone is full of humour as you turn your body slightly to face her better, taking in the way her brow raises at your challenging tone, “What else did you talk about?”

“How insufferable you were,” she teases back, a glimmer of triumph clear in her eyes as you simply chuckle back in response, the sound blessing her ears as she had missed this, the playful conversations you would share, teasing one another until the other would break, most likely kissing the other to shut them up. “You were pretty annoying,” she whispers light-heartedly, the teasing expression on her face faltering at the way your hand naturally moves to her thigh, squeezing softly as you laugh with her, eyes meeting hers with an entertained look.

“You secretly loved it,” you murmur back, unaware at how the two of you had both leaned in slightly, Wanda however realising and moving to lean back so she could also place her glass down, wanting to move them out of the way as warmth settled deep within the pit of her stomach. The feeling of your fingers against her thigh sent a shiver down her spine, a sudden heat and desire consuming her as she licked her lips subconsciously to wet them, tasting the remnants of the wine on them as her gaze met yours, noticing how your pupils dilated as you looked at her.

“I did,” she whispers and neither of you seem to be able to stop the way you both gravitated towards one another, both of your gazes drifting lower.

Wanda wanted you, she needed you, she needed to feel wanted, to feel desired and be looked at in that loving way. Her heart longed to feel appreciated, to feel as though she was the most important thing in the world, to feel cared for, to lose herself in something, in you. Her body longed to feel your touch, to feel your hands caress her cheeks, her hips, her inner thighs as all she could remember was the ghost of your touch, haunting her in all the right and wrong ways. She needed to replace the feeling of larger hands that were only selfish, she wanted to be touched in a way that screamed I loved you, a touch that you were only ever able to satisfy her with.

“Wanda,” you sighed out as you noticed the distance between you close, an intimate atmosphere wrapping around the two of you as you leaned in, waiting to let years of passion consume you both. You craved her in a way that you didn’t think was possible, you were addicted to her, to her lips, to the sinful yet sweet sounds that’d spill from her, the taste of her as she would come undone in your mouth. She was like a drug, one you had been deprived of for too long and desperate for, trying to hold on to the last part of your restraint before you’d relapse into the desire you had for her.

“Y/n,” she whispers out and the sound of your name falling so gracefully from her lips set your entire body ablaze, your hand reaching up to her cheek, cupping it gently as your lips ghosted one another in a tantalising manner, not quite brushing just yet. It was teasing for both of you, waiting for the other to make the first move, not wanting to rush anything yet but your bodies had their demands, desire getting the better of you both as you had waited long enough. You needed each other.

“If we kiss, I… I don’t think I’ll be able to stop,” you confess, your mouths so close Wanda can feel your lips move as you murmur to her, her heart beating wildly in her chest as anticipation gets the better of her, her hand moving to your hair, slowly threading her fingers in an making you flutter your eyes shut at the pleasant feeling.

“Who said I’d want to stop?” Wanda sighs out after what feels like an eternity when it was realistically seconds, the words enough to break your restraint as you tilt your head to crash your lips to hers, the world around you fading away.

The two of you both moaned into the kiss at the sheer intensity of it, the love and passion that your lips moved with against one another as you stole each other's breath away, both literally and figuratively as you refused to part your lips from hers. It was relentless, the way fervent lips moulded against one another, her fingers tightening their grip in your hair as your fingers moved to cup her jaw, splaying against her burning skin as you pulled her face back to yours, feeling as though the world would end if you stopped touching each other.

Wanda moaned softly into your mouth when you deepened the kiss, sliding your tongue against hers in a lewd yet sensual manner as you explored each others mouths, your free hand moving to her waist, caressing the skin in that intoxicating manner she adored, a sigh spilling from her lips in between heated kisses. Her body moved on its own as she manoeuvred to straddle you, the desire and craving inside her overpowering her as she settles on your lap, the action dragging out a deep groan from you as her thighs squeeze around your body, her back arching her chest further into yours.

“Fuck,” the word leaves you breathlessly as the two of you briefly part, your mind fogged with arousal as you take in the sight of her straddling you, her lips kiss swollen and hair a little ruffled, her green overflowing with want as she panted above you, scanning your features. You watched her curiously as she took in your equally dishevelled state, the passion of the moment dwindling slightly into a softer and slower tone, the urgency and desire still prevalent in all your touches though as her hand cups your jaw, tilting your head up to meet her lowering mouth.

It feels like you're waiting an eternity until she lowers her face even more, her lips barely putting any pressure on yours as they briefly brush over them. Your eyes flutter close when you feel her other hand move to your shoulder, drifting down over your collarbone and back up in a soft manner, waiting for her to kiss you, to crash her lips to yours, to do anything at this point as you just wait, wait and wait.

When she feels like she's savoured the moment enough, Wanda kisses you. She kisses you in a manner that shows she's been starved of your lips forever; it's hot, it's desperate, it's passionate. It's everything you wanted it to be. You can't do anything but melt into her touch, hand clutching at her waist to ground yourself as all you can think of is her lips moving against yours, her body pressed up against yours, her soft fingers threading through your hair, just her. You wanted to worship her, to show her all the love in the world, to show her how your heart only beats for her. She was all you ever needed.

A soft moan leaves you at the intensity of the kiss, heat immediately taking over your body, her touch burning into your skin as arousal pools between your legs at the feeling of her lips moving against yours, a sensual sigh escaping her as you pull back from the kiss, eyes darkening with desire as you peer up into the green. Your lips peck hers in between laboured breaths, her hands moving to your shoulders, gliding them down your back and earning another sinful noise out of you, your lips tugging into a smirk as her breath hitches at the feeling of your hands at the bottom of her shirt, cold fingertips brushing the bare skin of her stomach. However, the action doesn’t quite yet the reaction you hoped it would as she tenses above you, pulling back from the kiss and worrying you, scared you had crossed a line.

“I’m sorry,” you pant out, still breathless and dazed at the intense amount of arousal that clouds your mind, concern evident in your features and touch as your hands move to her thighs, softly brushing over the fabric of her jeans as she avoids your gaze momentarily. “We don’t have to-” you start, wanting to express to her that there was never any pressure between you, but she cuts you off, her gaze finally meeting yours.

Your brows furrowed at the look of insecurity in her eyes, your face softening as you let her speak, her fingers mindlessly playing with the loose strands at the back of your neck, eyes drifting over your features as she airs her worries.

“I want to,” she quickly reassures, leaving her green on your lips to emphasise her point before she looks into your eyes, basking in the safety your longing look offers her. “I just… I need you to know that I’m not the same as I was,” she whispers, anxiety and nervousness lacing her words as she lifts her hands to motion towards her body, avoiding your gaze once more as her mind casts back to the few comments Vision had made about her body post giving birth to the twins, the words sticking with her. She didn’t feel as though she was beautiful anymore and she didn’t want you to be disappointed.

Upon seeing her shaky hands and hearing her words, you sit up straighter to look into her timid green, fingers naturally moving to interlock with hers, encouraging her to look at you as your eyes fill with nothing but love, needing her to hear you.

“Wanda,” you murmur when she still doesn't meet your gaze, the insecurities gnawing away at her mind until your finger gently tips her chin up, her green instantly meeting yours and dissipating the worry. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” you confess, holding the intimate gaze and expressing the honesty in your words, the overwhelming amount of care in your voice stirring something deep inside her as she feels her emotions wracking through her, your words healing wounds she never realised cut so deep. “I love everything about you,” you murmur as you lean forwards, noticing how the worry slowly drains from her face, your noses brushing as you tease her with your lips, wanting her to hear you. “Your smile, your laughter, your heart. I love everything because they are a part of you. I love your body, even after all these years, because I know the amazing things it has done, the things you have done,” your words are laced with a delicate and loving tone as your fingers stay interlocked with hers, your hand squeezing hers as you peck her lips, smiling into the brief kiss as you feel her let out a relieved sigh, her body pushing hers closer to you as she kisses you again, wanting to drown herself in your love. “I also love that it’s still so sensitive to my touch,” you add in a gentle tease to ease the atmosphere, earning a soft chuckle from her as she kisses you with a little more purpose this time, the heat that had settled between her thighs making its presence known again.

“I’ve missed your touch,” she murmurs into a kiss, widening the smile on your lips as your hands move to her waist, caressing her soft curves as she grows more comfortable and confident, her hips slowly grinding down against you, sparks of pleasure filtering through her.

“Yeah?” you sigh out a little coyly into another slow and sensual kiss, your teeth biting down on her lower lip gently and dragging it down before releasing it, letting your tongue soothe over the dull pain you caused, relishing in the groan that escapes her.

“I’ve missed feeling so… so wanted,” she sighs out, letting you kiss along her jaw, peppering it in hot open-mouthed kisses as you trail her sharp jawline, dipping lower to her neck and kissing along her throat, teeth teasingly scraping over the searing skin.

“I’ll always want you, Wanda,” you whisper back without any hesitation, pressing a lewd kiss to the juncture of her neck, knowing she was sensitive there before pulling away from the skin before you’d start to cover it in marks, not sure how she’d feel about them. “I never want you to forget what you mean to me,” you husk out as your mouth ghosts her ear, hands guiding her hips with more purpose in your lap, her breath hitching in a sinful manner when her hips roll at just the right angle against you, a bolt of arousal shooting through her. “I want to worship you,” your tone makes Wanda moan at the sheer desire lacing your words, the way your teeth gently nibble on her ear lobe adding to the arousal coursing through her, her body drunk on your touch, on you.

“Please,” she practically whimpers out and fuck you’ve missed the sound of her begging you, a groan leaving your lips as you move your mouth back to hers, crashing your lips together. The love and care underlies the kiss but you both once again are taken over by lust, your actions fuelling one another as your hands drift to her hips, slowing her hips against your lap whilst her fingers tangle in your locks, tugging your head closer and never wanting to part from you until you motion for the two of you to move.

The journey to your room was a blur, hands roaming each other's bodies until the back of Wanda’s knees hit the bed, her body gently falling back against the mattress, her hair splaying across the sheets. You’re quick to climb over her body, pressing her further into the mattress, your lips moulding to hers as you claim her lips over and over again, only pulling back to admire the woman beneath you as your knee slots between her legs, earning a sinful sound. Your gaze is nothing but awestruck as you look down at her angelic form, Wanda shying a little at how in love you seemed, her hands grabbing the fabric of your shirt and pulling you back down to her, needing to feel you do something, anything to her at this point.

You take the hint and press your lips back to hers for a bruising kiss, your hand moving from the back of her thigh up her body, reaching the hem of your shirt and pausing, wanting permission this time as your eyes search hers, asking the silent question. Only when she nods confidently do you continue, your fingers sliding under the fabric and feeling the smooth and soft skin of her stomach, a sigh leaving her at the feeling of your fingers against her bare skin, the touch no longer just a memory.

“Y/n,” Wanda moans out as your hands trace over her ribcage, exploring the skin you longed to feel again, a hum leaving your lips as you refuse to part, your fingers pausing at the fabric of her bra, hands sliding out from under her shirt.

“Is this ok?” You whisper as your fingers wrap around the hem of her shirt, your intentions clear as she mutters a quick ‘yes’ in response before you swiftly remove the item from her, your gaze remaining on hers, catching the brief anxious glint again. You soothe her worries with loving and passionate kiss, your hands copying the actions you previously did but ghosting over her bra, teasing her in a torturous manner as her back arches to chase your touch, your name falling from her lips in a desperate plea, the sound going straight to your head and core.

Once your lips part, you pull slightly to take in the sight of her, your mouth parting at the sheer beauty of her, her body sculpted by the gods, her soft curves enticing, your fingers brushing lovingly over the marks you knew she was anxious about, the touch filled with awe and adoration. Your hands then slide up her body and around to her back, unclasping her bra after another nod of approval and eagerly taking the item off her, a sudden nostalgic feeling bubbling inside you as you remember the first time you spent together, the awkwardness as you both fumbled to undress, simply wanting to lose yourselves to the lustful moment.

“Fuck,” Wanda sighs out and its sinful when your hands gently cup her breasts, her body sensitive to your touch as her hips start to grind against your leg, begging for more friction to ease the incessant throb between her thighs. “Please,” she whimpers as your lips press against her jaw, letting her breathe for a moment as your fingers brush over her nipples, dragging out sensual sighs from her as you toy with her body, pressing your knee further against her and feeling her hips buck up hard against you, a broken moan being ripped from the back of her throat.

“Please what?” You rasp out in a tease, “You have to tell me what you want, love.” The term of endearment only adds to the arousal flooding through Wanda as the dominant tone to your voice goes straight to her core, her hips grinding against your thigh at a steady pace, pleasure swiftly building at the pit of her stomach whilst her hands clutch at your shoulders, nails grasping at the fabric of your shirt, wanting to pull it off.

“You, I want you,” she sighs out, pulling the shirt over your head and moaning into the kiss at the feeling of your bare bodies pressed against one another, one of her hands sliding up into your hair whilst the other scratches down your back, earning a pleased groan from you. “I need you,” she adds in a desperate tone, her voice and hips wavering, signalling to you how close she was as her hips rolled and rocked against you, the fabric of her jeans brushing perfectly against her clit.

“You have me,” you tease, one of your hands moving to her ass, guiding her against your leg and deliberately slowing her pace down, her frantic rhythm pushing her closer to her release. “Use my thigh first, love, then I’ll give you what you want,” your tone lowers an octave as you murmur to her, a moan leaving her at your words and the promise behind them, her mind running wild with fantasies as the memory of your fingers buried deep inside her and your tongue fucking her fills her mind.

“Shit, I’m so close,” Wanda sighs out, her head lolling back against the mattress, her neck exposed for you to kiss down, to mark as you suck a faint bruise at the base of her neck where she could easily hide, the action earning a desperate whine and encouraging the action.

“That’s it, good girl,” you praise as her nails dig into your back, her hips grinding relentlessly against you as she chases her high, the praise making her hips buck hard against you, a broken noise escaping her.

“Say it again, please say it again,” she pants out, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure threatens to crash through her, her fingers tightening their grip on your hair as she softly tugs you away from her collar bone, needing to feel your tongue sliding against hers.

“My good girl,” you husk out against her lips, a pitiful whine escaping her as she feels the coil at the pit of her stomach about to snap, her eyes fluttering open to ask you the silent question. Warmth and arousal instantly floods through you at the begging look in her green, the sheer amount of desperation and submission evident in her gaze enough to make you give in, your lips brushing hers as you mutter the words, “Come for me Wanda.”

With a final roll of her hips, Wanda’s body tensed against yours, a string of moans being muffled by your incessant mouth while pleasure consumed her entirely, her hands holding you close. Your hands slowed her movements against your thigh, letting her buck against you as she rode out the last waves of her orgasm, body melting against yours as she panted for breath.

Your gentle breath caressed her lips as she eventually opened her eyes in response to the soft praise you whispered, a blissed smile creeping onto her lips as your foreheads pressed against each other, her hips gradually coming to a stop against you as you kissed her one last time before starting to move down her body, ready to worship her as you promised.

“You’re so…” you trail off as your lips pepper hot open-mouthed kisses along her collar bones, hands drifting down her sides, caressing her beautiful curves and massaging her soft skin, feeling the way her body twitched at your touch in anticipation, her breath hitching when your mouth ghosted over one of her sensitive nipples.

“So?” She pants out, brushing back your hair so she could meet your seductive gaze as you took her nipple into your mouth, tongue swirling over the sensitive bud in a manner that drove her crazy, dragging moans out of her freely.

“Perfect. Beautiful. Mesmerising,” you punctate each word with a kiss down her body after you lavished her chest with kisses, your lips burning into her skin at each intoxicating touch, your words causing a deep blush to cover her cheeks and even the top of her chest, your lips tugging up into an amused smile at the reaction. “You’re everything to me,” you whisper against her stomach, pressing lingering kisses against the stretch marks that littered her skin from when she was pregnant with the twins, showing her your appreciation for her beauty and how the marks didn’t disgust you. You loved each and every single one as they told part of her story, your lips and hands brushing over the tender skin as your face practically nuzzled against her, worshipping her.

When your lips met the waistband of her jeans, you cast your eyes up her body, a moan escaping you at the sight of her flushed face staring down at you, your compliments flustering her and clouding her mind with want as she stared down at you settling between her thighs, her nails scratching at your scalp softly.

“Please,” she whispered with an overwhelming amount of want, your lips pressing a teasing kiss to the waistband of her jeans before moving to take the item off her, purposely taking your time. Your fingers move slowly and deliberately as you hold her intense gaze, languidly unfastening them before slowly unzipping them, watching in amusement as you see her chest start to rise and fall with ragged breaths, the teasing torturing her. “Detka, please,” she begs again and the use of her native tongue almost makes you cave, almost, an affected sigh escaping you at how her accent beautifully laced her words.

“Be patient,” you murmur back, her hips lifting to help you slide the fabric down her long, slender legs, leaving her just in her panties, a visible wet spot there for you to admire. “I’ll give you what you want soon,” you promise, merely earning a whine from her as she knew you intended on dragging this out, her heart beating wildly in her chest. “So needy,” you tease as your fingers brush over her clit through the soaked fabric, her hips immediately twitching at the teasing action, her hand in your hair tightening once more, pleading with you to hurry up.

“You’ve waited twelve years for this, can’t you wait a little longer,” you amusingly murmur as you kiss her hip bone, smiling against her skin as you hear her groan in frustration, her free hand gripping the sheets to help control herself.

“I think I’ve waited long enough,” she mutters back, earning a chuckle from you as your fingers drag over the wet fabric, slowly circling her clit in a way that’d only drive her insane with desire, her mouth parting to let a low moan spill from her lips. “Please… Please just fuck me,” she begs and all you can do is curse against her skin as you kiss her inner thigh, your hand spreading her legs out for you, eyes hazy with desire.

You give in partially to her, unable to take the teasing yourself as you press a sinful kiss against her clit through her panties, her body trembling already at your touch as the action pulls out a desperate whine from her, the noise turning into a pleased moan when you start to pull the wet fabric off of her. A gasp leaves her lip at the feeling of her core meeting the cold air in the room, your fingers inching closer towards where she desperately needed you, your eyes drinking in the sight of her dripping for you, arousal glistening in the gentle light from the room.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” you whisper as you kiss around her core, not giving her the satisfaction of your mouth just yet, the frustrated moan breaking into a relieved sigh at the feeling of your finger finally meeting her core. You move your finger through the abundance of arousal that’s pooled between her thighs, sliding your finger to her clit and slowly circling it to begin with, your mouth addicted to her soft skin as you mark her inner thighs, wanting her to remember everything from tonight, to see them tomorrow and think back to the sight of you between her thighs, her hands buried in your hair, keeping you as close as possible.

As you touch grows more confident and firmer, moans spilling from her lips, her hips start to roll against your hand, your free hand reaching up to interlock with her fingers at the sheets, letting her grasp onto you instead as you slide your finger down to her entrance, teasingly thrusting it in before sliding it out, coaxing her to chase your finger with her hips as she bucks against you, Wanda able to feel you smirking against her skin.

“Please stop teasing,” she pleas at the feeling of your fingers still teasing her entrance, too busy savouring the sight of her body completely melting at your touch. “I can’t take it anymore,” she whimpers, your composure cracking at her tone, your eyes taking in the sight of her sharp jawline on display as her head lolled back, an idea entering your mind.

“Look at me Wanda,” your tone is dominant but also desperate, the sound making the woman beneath you realise how turned on you were, a shaky breath escaping her. When her green eyes finally find the courage to look down at you, her breath hitches at the hungry yet soft look in your eyes, a moan of your name spilling from her lips as you keep your gaze on her whilst finally sinking your finger into her. “That’s it, keep your pretty eyes on me or I’ll stop, I want you to watch,” you husk out as she watches in awe at the way you thrust your finger into her, the room filling with the wet sounds of your finger pumping into her and her sinful sighs.

“Please Detka, fuck,” she groans when you slide your finger back in slowly and add another, purposely taking your time with her as you intended to drive her mad with your touch, her eyes staying trained on your enamoured gaze as you curl your digits inside her, Wanda’s mouth parting at the feeling. “Shit, just like that, please do that again,” she practically begged as you thrust your finger back in, hitting her sweet spot perfectly while heat floods through you at the sound of her desperate voice, pleasure sparking through her and coursing through her veins.

“Do you need more, love?” You mumble against her skin as your mouth hovers over her intoxicating core, wanting to hear how desperate she is for you, your fingers persisting with your deliberately slow pace, gradually building the pleasure within her as her hips gently rock against your hand, pleasure building at the pit of her stomach and making her clench desperately around you.

“Please,” is all she moans back in response, your resolve crumbling, unable to resist her anymore as your mouth licks a stripe up her core, moans escaping you both at the feeling.

Your wet and warm mouth sparks pleasure and delirium within her, her hips bucking up against you as you nuzzle your face closer, desperate to get a better taste of her heavenly arousal on your tongue, intending to show her exactly how much you love her.

The sound of her lewd moans and the taste of her on your tongue makes you lightheaded with the thought of her, addicted and constantly craving more of her as your tongue swipes through her folds, pleasure flooding through her body as you thrust your fingers into her faster, forgoing with anymore teasing as you couldn’t handle it anymore, never mind her.

“Fuck you taste so good,” you moan into her core, almost forgetting the sweet yet salty taste of her as your lips wrap around her clit, sucking gently whilst you peer up into her lust-filled green, her mouth parting in euphoria as pleasure buzzed through her, hips rocking to meet your hungry mouth.

Her fingers tightened once again in your hair, nails scratching your scalp to create a dull pain whilst you part your interlocked fingers to wrap your hand around her thigh, pulling her impossibly closer and spreading her legs a little more as you get lost within her, tongue swirling over her clit before wrapping around it, sucking firmly as you focussed on every little reaction she offered you. You longed to forever remember the desperate moan that was ripped from the back of her throat at the way your fingers curled and mouth sucked on her at the same time, the hitch of her breath as your tongue swirled around her clit, the way her body twitched as pleasure took over her, swiftly pushing her towards her release. You needed to remember it all.

Her hips soon started to roll against your mouth, coating your chin in her slick as your tongue lapped at her clit, alternating between sucking firmly and swirling your tongue around her, sinful sounds spilling from her lips as her body started to tremble in your grasp, her moans growing louder when you curl them at just the right spot once again.

“Detka, I- Please,” are the only words that she can manage as one of her hands shoot down to grip the sheet beneath her, knuckles bleeding white whilst her other one persists in keeping your head between her thighs, needing you to push her over the edge. “Please don’t stop,” she groans as you curl both of your fingers against her sweet spot, her vision almost blurring at the overwhelming feeling of love and pleasure coursing through her body, your body desperate to watch her fall apart at your touch. “I’m going to come-” Wanda manages in a broken moan, an equally desperate noise escaping you, the vibrations making her buck against your fingers, a whimper leaving her when her enticing green meets your soft and dominant gaze, giving her permission to fall over the edge.

“Come for me,” you murmur against her, keeping your eyes on hers as you watch them roll to the back of her head momentarily, her head lolling back and showing off her defined jawline as her hips stutter against your face, body tensing. A guttural moan escapes her at the amount of pleasure that floods through her, her fingers almost tearing through the sheet as she lifts it to her mouth, trying to muffle the small scream of your name as her release crashes through her, ecstasy and euphoria merging into one.

Your lips pepper soft kisses against her inner thighs as she attempts to recover, your fingers tracing random patterns against her skin as you wait for her to look back down at you, your eyes admiring her, in awe of her beauty as she lays beneath you, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Soft pants spill from her lips as she moves her fingers in your hair, her hand tugging your head away from her sensitive core, her hips still gently rolling against your hand as she rides out the last waves of her intense high, her body soon slumping against the sheets after you slide your fingers out, a sudden emptiness filling her. Your lips climb back up her body, ensuring every inch of her body was showered in affection whilst you whispered more praise before you met her lips, only brushing them briefly and intimately before you pulled back, offering her one of your digits covered in her cum and arousal.

A low groan escaped you when she obediently and willingly parted her lips for you to slide the digit in, her eyes fluttering shut in pleasure and submission at the action as her tongue swirled around your finger, your mind recalling the way her tongue felt on your core, only adding to the heat that still bubbled in the pit of your stomach. Only once she had cleaned your finger did you copy the action with your other one, keeping your gaze on her as you licked her cum off your finger, offering her a teasing smile as her cheeks flushed at the action, eyes darkening in desire again as she pulled your down against her body, kissing you passionately and moaning softly at the taste of herself on your tongue.

Your body moves to lay next to her when the kiss slowly dwindles, your breaths ragged as you fall onto your back, Wanda’s heart dropping momentarily as she fears you were going to leave, to simply roll over and go to sleep like he did after they’d be together, but the worry is swiftly eased when she feels your arm wrap around her body, encouraging her to lay into your side, her face moving to the crook of your neck. You expected her to simply sink into your embrace, to let her exhaustion take over her but you were pleasantly surprised by the feeling of her hand moving to your bare chest, the tip of her nail dragging down between the valley of your breasts and lower, her lips pressing an innocent kiss to your neck, a satisfied hum leaving her at the soft and desperate sigh that left you.

“You don’t have to,” you whisper softly, the want in your voice still lingering as her hand teasingly brushes over your body, her lips kissing up along the side of your neck as you tilt your head to the side, letting her place teasing kisses against your burning skin and engraving the feeling of them into your mind. You can feel her smile against your skin at the care in your words, not wanting her to feel pressured into giving you anything back, her lips eventually meeting the shell of your ear as her hand reaches the waistband of your jeans, fingers deftly unfastening them.

“I want to,” she rasps out at the shell of your ear, her low tone and the way her accent seeps into her words making you let out a shaky breath, your hands swiftly moving down your body to help her rid you of the last of your clothes, her hand quickly returning to your hip. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Wanda whispers into your ear, her touch the opposite of your teasing one as her fingers waste no time in sliding through your folds, needing to touch you, to please you, a gasp leaving you at the feeling of her nimble fingers effortlessly sliding through your slick, covered in your arousal. “I’ve wanted to love you like you were mine,” she continues, her thigh moving to rest over yours, keeping your legs spread and hips still as you try to grind up against her fingers, your jaw clenched slightly as you try to muffle the already desperate sounds that threaten to spill from you at the feeling of your bare skin pressed together.

“All yours,” you managed back, your body overwhelmed by pleasure and arousal as she circles your clit a few more times before dipping her finger lower, effortlessly sinking into you and earning a small groan.

“Mine,” she mutters as she kisses your cheek, then the corner of your mouth as you stifle another moan, a little embarrassed at how quickly the pleasure built in the pit of your stomach, her fingers curling beautifully inside you, her palm brushing over your clit. “I want to hear you, don’t hide,” she murmurs, desperate to hear the effect she had on you, her body longing to feel you spasming around her fingers, to hear you moaning her name freely.

“Shit, Wanda,” you instantly sigh out, trying to buck your hips up but her thigh keeping you down, one of your hands gripping the sheets by your side whilst your other shoots down to her thigh, gripping onto her as her fingers slide in and out of you lewdly. “You feel so good, I- God, you're such a good girl,” you rasp out, the praise making her groan against your skin as she kisses your cheek, encouraging you to tilt your face and meet her lips, her fingers relentless as they curl at the perfect spot, bolts of pleasure sparking through you. You simply pant into her mouth as she thrusts her fingers into you a little faster, her fingers hitting your sweet spot at a different angle and having you moan abruptly into her mouth, your body teetering on the edge.

At the way you clench desperately around her, your mouth struggling to kiss her back, Wanda can tell that your close, her lips swallowing every sound she could as you sighed and moaned against her, her lips ghosting yours as she felt your hips grinding as best they could against her hand, her palm perfectly rubbing against your clit.

“Are you close?” She whispers in a slight tease, already knowing the answer as you simply nod in response, your eyes squeezed shut as you focussed on the euphoria and delirium of her touch, Wanda’s gaze memorising every reaction you offered her. “Please come for me,” Wanda mutters in a soft tone, a desperate tone and it’s enough to make the coil inside you snap, your nails digging into her thigh as your body crashes into its release, the pleasure and intimacy of the moment blurring your vision as you ride out your intense high. You clench desperately around her fingers, walls spasming around her as you rut against her hand, your forehead resting against hers whilst you pant, experiencing the last of your release before you melt against the sheets, relaxation and euphoria coursing through you at the feeling of your bodies sinking into one another.

Her lips pepper soft and loving kisses against your face as you smile at her, fluttering your eyes open to search the green eyes you’d fallen so hard for, conveying all your love for her in the gentle and lingering stare. You lift your hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, watching her gaze soften as she savours your caring and affection touch, her heart fluttering in her chest at every tender action.

Wanda hated how, despite the moment being perfect, she still had a gnawing doubt in the back of her mind that you were going to leave her alone as she had grown used to being left to clean and tend to herself, her body simply craving your comfort after such an intimate moment. The worry seemed to express itself subtly within her gaze, your eyes noticing the small glint of fear in her expressive green and silently asking her to explain what was bothering her, the back of your fingers brushing her cheek in a soothing manner.

“Please don’t leave,” is all she whispers, her voice wavering with emotion as your features soften at her tone, your mind grasping a vague idea at the unfair treatment she had received and motivating you to take even more care of her, simply wanting to give her the world.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur with conviction, reassuring her as your hand moves to her free one, lifting it to your lips to kiss before you interlock your fingers, knowing she liked to play with your hand when she felt nervous or simply wanted to be calmed down. “But we need to go to the bathroom to clean up,” you whisper after you feel as though she’s savoured the moment enough, catching the way her body seemed to be relaxing a little too much as sleep threatened to overtake her, her body melting at the warmth and love your presence provided her.

Begrudgingly, Wanda took your hand as you coaxed her out of your bed, your hands snaking around her waist naturally as you guided her to your ensuite to clean the two of you up, gently using a cloth to wipe her down whilst pressing loving kisses to her forehead, showering her with love as you noticed the blush and smile that crept onto her lips at being cared for. You simply gave her everything she had craved for years, the praise, the gentle murmurs, your hands treating her with nothing but tenderness as they caressed her body and tended to her. You also made sure the two of you drank enough water before leaving the bathroom, offering her one of your sleep shirts to which she declined, softly murmuring how she wanted to sleep with you naked, yearning for the intimacy of the cuddles of your bare skin pressed so comfortably against hers.

Your lips pulled up into a smile at her delicate and adorable tone as you indulged in her wants, eventually getting back into bed with her and pulling her impossibly closer to you, your limbs getting tangled under the duvet as she snuggled further against you, sighing against your skin. Her hands slid around your waist, fingers mindlessly tracing random patterns against your back as your fingers threaded through her auburn locks, gently scratching her scalp and smiling at the pleased groan that left her at the relaxing sensation, her body shuffling closer to you.

“I love you,” Wanda whispered after a moment, breaking the comfortable silence that had enveloped the two of you, her breath tickling your skin as she nuzzled closer to the crook of your neck, basking in the warmth of your body as she placed another delicate kiss to your skin, trying to express the overwhelming emotions she had for you. It was impossible for her to describe, the world around her fading away when she was with you, the wounds inside her healing when she felt your loving touch or lingering stare, her heart longing to remember this moment forever as the love swirling inside her was undeniable and all consuming, cementing the fact that this was where she belonged. She belonged with you.

“I love you too,” you murmur with as much care as you could muster, your lips pressing to the top of her hair as you melt into the embrace, your heart wrapped in love and joy as you savoured the moment with her, finally living a moment you had dreamed of for so many years. “I’ll be here when you wake up, go to sleep love,” you coo as you can feel her body fighting the tiredness that washed over her, a drowsy noise escaping her which only filled your chest with more warmth, a tenderness wrapping around the two.

Soon enough, the two of you drifted off to a peaceful sleep, your silent embrace conveying more than words could ever describe as you sank further into one another, reflecting the endless love you shared as your souls reconnected, finding a sense of safety in each other's arms and finally feeling as though you had found your home.  

---

I absolutely spoiled you guys with this🤭

 As heavily requested, I'll be writing both epilogue smut scenes and I hope you enjoyed the first one! You better have paced yourselves with this as I have no idea when the next one will be written, so savour these 10k words pls😭 

Also in case anyone is an Arcane fan, I have briefly started a Caitvi oneshot collection if you want to check it out on Ao3! <3 

Please leave any thoughts/comments/votes/kudos <3 I really appreciate all of your support!

Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger

Wattpad- LovePersevering2

Tumblr- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger3000

[levispersonalslave]

Hi. How are you? I love your Levi's story and your cute blog.

I would like to leave a request.

Ex boyfriend Levi x ex girlfriend reader

In which Levi ended a four-year relationship with the reader. And after two years they meet again.

During these two years, the reader went abroad to study and when she returns to her hometown, she opens a bakery that serves sweets, coffee and tea. A very cute bakery.

Her friend invites her to a company party where her husband works. But destiny plays tricks, and Levi works at the same company. When she sees him, he is 'accompanied' by a woman.

Both, Levi and the reader, still love each other and have very strong feelings for each other.

Ps: Levi wears glasses.

I leave the resolution and development of the story up to you.

Thanks and have a good Sunday and an excellent start to the week.

Don't be in a hurry to write. Take your time.

HI DEARRR this is absolutely ADORABLE and im in LOVE with that header omg,, I HOPE THIS IS TO YOUR LIKING MY LOVE ‹𝟹

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐞~!

𝐸𝑥-𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑!𝐿𝑒𝑣𝑖 𝐴𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛 × 𝐸𝑥-𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑀𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑛 𝐴𝑢, 𝐸𝑥’𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠, 1.3𝑘 𝑤𝑐

The scent of vanilla and cinnamon lingers in the air, curling around you like a warm embrace. It settles into every corner of the bakery, clinging to the wooden counters, the glass display, the freshly wiped tables. Even as the evening rush fades, leaving behind only a handful of customers, the air remains thick with the sweetness of sugar and nostalgia.

With a slow breath, you wipe your hands over your apron and step back, surveying your work. Trays of golden pastries rest behind the glass, their delicate edges catching the soft glow of the overhead lights. This bakery—your bakery—is everything you once dreamed of. A fresh start; a sanctuary built with your own hands.

And yet, no matter how much sugar and warmth you pour into it, some ghosts refuse to stay buried.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Hitch’s voice cuts through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. You turn to see her leaning against the counter, arms crossed, a thin brow arched in mock exasperation.

“Ah, sorry,” you say with a sheepish smile.

She rolls her eyes. “I was inviting you to a party. My friend’s company is hosting it tonight. Fancy food, good music, and a whole room full of pretty corporate guys debating things we’ll pretend to understand.”

You hesitate, already shaking your head. “I don’t know, hun. . . I have an early morning tomorrow.”

Hitch groans, throwing her head back. “You always have an early morning. You work too much. Come on, you need a night out.”

You do work too much. You know that. But the thought of stepping into a crowded room filled with unfamiliar faces—and the possibility of familiar ones—is enough to make you hesitate. Two years abroad gave you distance, but not immunity. There are still some things your heart refuses to forget.

Still, when you meet Hitch’s expectant gaze, something in it makes you waver.

And fate, with its cruel sense of humor, will happily remind you why you spent so long running.

“. . .Fine then,” you relent, untying your apron. “But only for a little while.”

Hitch grins, triumphant. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

The venue is the kind of place that whispers elegance in hushed tones—polished floors gleaming under soft golden light, chandeliers dripping with crystal, laughter weaving through the air like silk. The clink of champagne glasses hums in the background, mingling with the gentle murmur of conversation.

You adjust the strap of your dress, exhaling as you follow Hitch inside.

And then you see him.

The world tilts, just for a moment.

He stands near the bar, half-listening to a conversation, his posture effortlessly composed. He hasn’t changed much. The sharp cut of his suit, the quiet intensity in his gaze, the way his fingers curl loosely around the rim of his glass—it’s all painfully familiar.

For a fleeting second, you almost convince yourself he’s just a memory, a ghost conjured by your own mind.

But then your eyes shift, and you notice the woman beside him.

She’s beautiful, the kind of beautiful that turns heads without trying—wrapped in a sleek red gown, dark hair tumbling in soft waves. One hand rests lightly on his arm as she leans in to say something.

He responds with a quiet smile, and your heart clenches.

You tear your gaze away, fixing your eyes on anything else—the flickering candlelight, the tray of champagne flutes gliding past—but it’s far too late.

He’s already seen you.

Your breath catches as his gaze finds yours across the room.

For a heartbeat, the party disappears. The chatter, the music, the laughter—it all fades into something distant, unimportant. There’s shock in his expression at first, then something softer—something dangerously close to longing. Hitch is speaking beside you, but her voice barely reaches your ears. You take a step back, pulse thrumming against your ribs.

He hesitates, fingers twitching at his side before he murmurs something to the woman beside him. She nods, stepping away without protest.

And then he’s moving toward you. Your breath wavers.

You turn, reaching blindly for the nearest tray, grasping a glass of champagne with fingers that tremble just slightly. A sip does nothing to steady you.

You turn sharply, needing distance, needing air—anything to steady the erratic rhythm of your pulse. Your gaze flickers toward the nearest tray of champagne flutes, and you reach for one, fingers trembling just slightly. But in your haste, you miscalculate the movement.

The glass tilts, slipping from your grasp.

You lurch forward instinctively, hands reaching out—

And collide with someone.

Strong hands catch your arms, steadying you before you can stumble. A warm, familiar touch.

“Oh, I’m sorry—” The words die in your throat the second your eyes rise to meet his.

Up close, he’s even more overwhelming. The sharp cut of his jaw, the faint crease between his brows, the way his fingers tighten just slightly before he lets go. His scent—clean, crisp, edged with something undeniably familiar—wraps around you like a ghost of the past.

His touch vanishes, but the sensation lingers, branding itself onto your skin.

For a moment, neither of you speak. The party hums on around you, distant and insignificant. The space between you is thick with everything unspoken.

“Hello,” he says at last, his voice warm, careful.

You swallow. “Hi.”

A pause.

“I didn’t know you were back.”

“Been a few months,” you answer softly. “I opened a bakery.”

His lips part slightly, and you can see the memory flicker behind his eyes. You can almost hear his voice from years ago, teasing yet certain: You’ll be amazing at it. He used to say he could already picture it—a place that smelled like sugar and cinnamon, with soft jazz playing in the background.

He had believed in your dreams before you had.

Another waiter passes by, this time with a tray of desserts. Without thinking, you reach for a small lemon tart.

The moment you realize what you’ve done, you almost move to put it back—but when you look up, his gaze is already on the pastry in your hand.

Your eyes meet again, and your fingers tighten around the delicate crust. “This was always your favorite,” you murmur.

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Yeah.”

Silence stretches between you, heavy with nostalgia. Something unspoken lingers in the air, something fragile and dangerous all at once.

And then, before you can stop yourself, the question slips from your lips.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

He blinks, surprised. His eyes flicker toward the woman in red, then back to you.

“No,” he says simply. “Just a coworker.”

Relief rushes through you, quick and sharp. You barely have time to smother it before it betrays you. It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. You don’t belong to him anymore, but your heart hasn’t gotten the memo.

“I should—”

“Can we talk?”

Your pulse stumbles. “Levi. . .”

“I know this isn’t the place,” he says quietly. “But—” He exhales, tugging at his cuffs. “Two years, and I still—”

“Please don’t.” Your voice is barely a whisper. “Don’t say it.”

Because if he does, you might break.

And yet, standing here, with the taste of lemon on your tongue and the past so close you could touch it, a truth settles deep in your chest.

You still love him. Maybe you always will.

He takes a slow step closer. “Then let me show you instead.”

The party buzzes on, indifferent to the moment unfolding between you. Two people standing on the edge of something unfinished.

You could walk away.

Or you could let fate take the wheel.

And maybe—just maybe—find your way back to him. Because the best recipes are a little messy, and some things are worth making from scratch.

⊱ 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⊰ @the-traveling-poet, @pinkberryfox, 𝑑𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑑 ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

ᵎ!ᵎ 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦 @kodaswrld ᵎ!ᵎ

[biancadoes1]

If this is how Luke treats his girlfriend, they why do we want him for Nic? Our queen deserves better!

We saw the love and respect that they have for each other, but her 'just' friend interview followed by the Boss event debacle seems very strange, not on his grid and nothing from her?

He said in one of the BTS 'Im an actor, that's what I do', well if he is more interested in having countless holidays, parading arm candy, and seeking modelling rather than acting jobs, then Nic is doing the right thing by being a friend and 'just' that. Narrow escape if you ask me.

Let me rip you a new asshole, anon.

First off, grown woman Nicola Coughlan is going to decide what’s best for her and what she deserves. She’s her own person. We can want things for her, sure, but ultimately it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme.

Also, what does the just friend interview and the Boss event do to make you question or even link their mutual love and respect they have for each other? No matter what you believe is happening here, the love and respect we had the opportunity to see between them hasn’t changed. This tells me you think Luke is picking at her or some shit which is stupid af.

And thank you for showing your hurt feelings by reducing Luke to a vapid asshole frat boy that he’s been characterized as heavily since June. I thought it had lightened up a bit after his People SMA spread and interview but here we fucking go again.

Answer me this:

1. How many holidays equals countless? Because we saw maybe two or three trips after he worked and traveled and did press for six months? And if he took more, how do we know that wasn’t for work? You don’t.

2. Parading arm candy? When have you seen arm candy paraded? Antonia at GQ? Work event. Rory’s bday? A friend trip. Is she on his IG stories? Is she on his grid? Seems like he’s never planned to post her. I don’t call that parading either when he’s unknowingly part of a picture posted by friends.

3. Modeling jobs? People SMA is always a photo shoot. Are you referring to that or those pap pictures (that I believe were planned)? Are you forgetting he was filming a movie in Rome around Christmas time? So wtf are you talking about no acting jobs???

You sound like a hurt bitch. I can’t stand hurt bitches too because they like to come up and start saying shit like this when their own insecurities feel like they’re taking a hit.

And because you’re a hurt bitch all the sudden Nicola has made a ‘narrow escape’. Meanwhile your ass was probably up in the notes rooting him on when he was quiet everywhere.

Stop projecting yourself on to this woman. It’s not cute and you look weird.

[renren-006]

being geta’s betrothed and catching lucius’ eye!

Amor Fati | Lucius Verus Aurelius

plot: high status fem reader (betrothed to Geta) x Lucius the boy who saw who she truly was

use of roman lingo/historical terms, angst, not entirely canon accurate, death and violance

translation of amor fati: love of fate

Word Count: 3923

a/n: thank you so much for the request i was so excited to write this!! I did my best to also write a bit more "Roman"! Enjoy!

The sun beat down on the emperor's box. Only so much the velarium could do to prevent the sun's rays from entering the little room. You leaned forward in your seat, and closer and closer, you crept to the railing. You wanted to feel more of the sun; it was the only time of the day you were allowed outside the palace, and you wanted to enjoy every bit of it. 

Once the sun hit your face, a sigh escaped your lips, and the tension in your body fell. The warmth and heat of the sun made everything feel better. You knew Geta would scold you any minute for the act, but you could care less. 

Your imprisonment in the palace started a year ago when your father, an elite senate member, said you were to be married to the emperor. Apparently, the emperor was looking to the senate members for marriage offers; your father was the first and only one to stand with one. Your face fell at the memory of him coming home and telling you to pack your things and leave for the palace. You screamed yourself that night, fought every way to that place, and didn't even spare a glance at the emperor before you were shoved in your room with the door locked behind you. 

You sat back at the memory, wanting to leave it in the past. You couldn't change your fate, the one you were forced into. You had always hoped you wouldn't be one of the women thrown into an arranged marriage by their fathers, but here you were. While you and Emperor Geta were not married, you knew it was coming soon. A shaky breath left you at the thought. Geta was not a terrible man, but he wasn't a good one either. You could see his rage and ambition, and it scared you the way he ruled with it. 

You looked to your left and saw Geta sitting on his throne with a plastered smile. It was a wicked one. You shrunk away at the sight. You wished for nothing more than to be rid of him and this role. The more you ponder, the more you lose track of the world. It wasn't until Getas's voice spoke up next to you that you blinked back to reality.

“Why is that gladiator looking at…you” Geta said, casting an aggravated look down towards the pits. You turned your head towards the gladiator in question. You felt as if lightning struck you when you locked eyes with him. For that tiny moment, you felt as if all that mattered in the world was him. This brown-haired blue-eyed gladiator smirked at you, making your heart beat even faster. A slight blush crept up your cheeks. You looked away before anyone noticed and before the heat in your stomach could intensify. Geta eyed you suspiciously before returning to the games and seemingly forgetting about everything. You let out a slow breath that you didn't realize you had been holding. You often wondered how many times a day you forget to breathe when around Geta, always worried about being anything other than perfect. 

That night was filled with another lavish party, and you tried to keep a smile and content look on your face. You glanced towards the arches on the far side of the room that led out onto the streets of Rome. People passed through them as they entered the party, coming and going. You wished you were one of those people, able to come and go as pleased. You knew you had to wait till night when the empire slept before you could creep out onto the streets. The furthest you had made it in one night was past the gates, watching the sunrise over the hills towards the countryside. You were back in your room by sun up and complained of feeling ill to get out of leaving your room for the day. Those days when you could be yourself at night and explore were all you looked forward to.

As the night grew late and their parties died, you bid farewell and went to your room. You were overlooked as you left; the emperors were occupied with their own girls. Thoughts swarmed your mind. ‘this would not be how your night ended’, you wanted to see the gladiator that caught your eye. You stopped momentarily before a smile crept onto your face, another perfect outing. You slipped your way out of the palace and onto the streets of Rome. 

The Colosseum loomed ahead of you, drawing you in. You walked through its halls, which were quiet now in the late night hours. The only noise could be heard from the Ludus, where the gladiators lived. You walked inside, the cloak around your neck and head protecting you slightly. The men eyed you curiously, some recognizing you from the emperor's box. Ravi, the gladiator's doctor, walked over to you. 

“I see your adventures have taken you here,” he said lightly. Ravi was one of the few men you had come across on your nightly walks that were kind and enjoyable to converse with. You nodded your head at the man.

“After much pleading from you and the electrifying eyes of a gladiator, I was drawn here,” you told him honestly. Your voice steady as you spoke to him

“Someone catch your eye,” Ravi said, laughing a little. He motioned you to follow him as he showed you towards their dining area. “Not much longer will they be here.” Many gladiators were still enjoying the company of others while eating the rest of their final meals of the day. You glanced around the room, waiting for him to catch your eye. You glanced out twords the training grounds in search of him. There he was, training for his next day in the arena. You walked over to the walkway's edge, carefully watching from afar. When he heard your feet as they drew closer, he glanced behind him. His eyes met yours, and the same electrifying feeling was sent through your body. The man dropped his sword and marched over to you.

“Noble women should not be down here,” he told you, eyeing you up and down. His hands reached out and threaded through some of the fabric of your dress. “Or did you come here to boast about your position”

“I am not one to boast,” you told him. His eyes were finally brought back up to meet yours. “I am only here to…meet you.” The sweetness in your voice dripped like honey, drawing him in like a bee. The man before you could practically taste the sweetness of your voice. 

“Hmm,” he hummed. “I am not interesting, my lady,” he said with a deep accent. It made your knees feel weak hearing it from his lips. You both stood in each other's presence, neither wanting to move or break the moment. 

“What is your prenomen?” you asked the gladiator before you. He glanced down before returning his gaze to your face. 

“Hanno,” he said, “my lady”

“I do not need the formality,” you told him, “y/n will do.”

“y/n.” It rolled off his lips with ease and sensuality that you almost felt yourself lose composure. Hanno was nothing like the man you had known or knew; he was something else entirely. “The guards call for me now, I must leave you.”

“I will pray for you tomorrow.” Eagerness filled your voice with the promise. 

“I do not need your god's help,” Hanno's words hung in the air, “your presents is enough.” with a sweet smile, he left twords his cell. You could tell he held a lot on his shoulders. 

As the night turned to day, golden rays warmed the earth. You rose from your bed, the night's events playing in your head still. A smile played on your lips at the thought of seeing your gladiator fight. You waited for your gladiator to file into the arena. As he did, a small smile played on your lips. 

“Minerva, let his sword be true,” you whispered. The wind picked up momentarily, brushing past Hanno; they heard your prayer. He fought true and won his battle, Rome was pleased by his winning. Hanno looked up at the emperor's box and smiled at you before showing his sword. He was showing you his praise, the rest of the box saw this as an act of respect for the emporos. You knew it was only for you.

You simply watched Hanno behind shadows as he trained for the next few days. He knew you were there, but no words could leave your lips around him. Your heart hammed in your chest as you watched him train, or fight.  Your growing infatuation was making your life complicated. 

Geta strolled into the palace library, seeking to find you. You sat in the far corner, immersed in a book.

“My beloved,” he said, a smile on his face. “Why have you abandoned your duties” “Geta… ”you signed; this was a conversation you did not know how to have. “I…” “Answer me,” the emperor before you commanded you, not the man you knew he shielded himself from. 

“I had a moment of weakness not fulfilling those duties.” you told him smoothly, “I shall resume them.” “Good. As the woman I am to marry, you must show me you are loyal.” “As you wish. My Geta,” you told him. He smiled before he kissed your cheek and left the library. The breath you held was released, and you let the book in your hands fall to the floor. Tears fell from your eyes again. Geta was never cruel, but his words cut deep to you like a knife. Those words of duty and obligation stung like a bee. You were haunted by the duty and life that was forced upon you, something inside you wished to flee. Your maid rushed to your side, plying your hands from your face to wipe the tears that fell.

“Shhh, mistress,” she whispered, “you must not cry in these halls, ears and eyes everywhere.” You wanted only to be held but knew the status between you and the older woman before you forbade it. She held your hand at the sad and pleading look in your eyes for some motherly support. 

“I…do not want this role,” you whispered.

“I know, miss. I know. You must please the emperor, or he will punish you,” she told you, “I see him punished. Cruel man.” A small cry fell from your lips; the idea of seeing who he is beyond the Geta you have seen scared you. 

Those next few days, you did as asked and never left Geta’s side. You made your smile look like jewels to Geta and the others in his company. You did everything right, making Geta lose his interest in seeing your complacency. As the days turned to weeks he slowly lost his interest in you, your complacency, no signs of love, he turned back to his women he had hanging off his throne. 

It was not until a few days later that you visited Hanno in Ludus. You slipped into his cell. He turned from the wall he faced to find you lifting your head to meet his eyes. 

“You are back,” he said, walking over. 

“Yes,” you were firm in your answer before you deflated. “I needed to escape.” 

“Escape? From where?” he asked, motioning for you to sit in the small bed he had been given. You shook your head, not ready to tell him of the life you know others would grab for. 

“Why did you look at me that way in the arena?” You asked him. He glanced up at you. 

“You should not ask that,” he said softly. 

“I will ask. Hanno, I need to know,” you told him, almost pleading with the man before you to tell you why he had a slight look of love and familiarity in his eyes. 

“Your eyes. Your smile. Reminded me of my wife who passed,” he told you, interrupting your voice. “I felt a connection, and I wanted to…I wanted to be with you, see what it was”

“I am sorry about your wife” you said in response. “I too...wanted to be with you”

“You have the emperor.” his voice was still tired as he spoke. Reminding the both of you of the obligations you were given. 

“I do not love him. I do not wish to be with him,” you told him 

“Then why are you?” he asked, curious about your life. 

“Not my wish. My father sold me to him…I fought that night to not go,” you told him, words turning from anger to sadness. Hanno's hand landed on your knee. The callouses felt good against your soft skin. Your eyes met his. 

“We are both here not of our own will,” he told you, filling your soul with understanding. You sat with Hanno for a while before bidding on your goodbyes. You looked back at him when you left; love looked back. 

The next time you visit was when Hanno sat outside on the training grounds. You watched the sun sink lower and lower into the horizon.

 “Why do you keep visiting me?” you glanced back twords the man beside you. Those tired eyes filled with more life as the moments passed. 

“You see me,” you told him, “no…obligations are required when i am with yo.u”

“What else?” he asked, knowing there was more behind your words. 

“You are the only one to see me, truly see me,” you told him, “not as some senator's daughter or the emperor betrothed…I do not have to be perfect when I am with you, I can just be”

“You are simply y/n,” he told you, “you are yourself; you are not defined by your father or your position.” “I wish that to be so,” you said sadly. The weight of your life and position felt like the most significant challenge you had. You knew he understood; you could feel your souls connecting more and more. 

“I escaped my position long ago,” he said quietly, “I fear after returning to Rome, I must soon take that position again.”

“May I ask what position?”

“In time,” he told you, smiling sadly. You nodded, understanding the desire to hide parts of himself. To be seen was intimate, and he was not yet there. You placed a hand on top of his, causing his eyes to lift to yours.

“I am here whenever you wish to tell me more…But I must go before I am looked for” you told him. You stood, still holding his hand, he turned it to grasp yours. He smiled a sad tired smile. You nodded your head as a bid goodbye and left his side. The walk back to your prison had never felt so cold and lonely before. 

It was days beofre you went back, knowing your visits were drawing more eyes on you than you intended to. This may have to be your last one for quite some time. As you walked to meet with Hanno, he grasped your hand. 

“What is wrong,” you asked him. Tired, scared, and anxious eyes looked at you.

“You should not have come.” “What? Why?” you asked worried

“There is…a plan happening, and your being here will put you in danger.” “Hanno. What plan?” you glanced behind you twords the other cells and guards.

“Remember I told you I left my position here in Rome,” he said, causing your eyes to lock back in with his. He has his hands on your arms, keeping your attention on him. “I do.” In your response, you looked into his blue eyes hesitantly.

“This position…was the prince of Rome. My name, my true name is Lucious Verus Aurelius.” “You…Lucious?” you asked he smiled something unique. Recognition with his name when it came from your lips, like that name was meant to be spoken by you. 

“Yes. Y/n” “I cannot believe it”

The night was spent with him retelling his history to you and the stories he lobed in the colonies across the Mediterranean. He spoke of the people, their beliefs, and the difference between there and Rome. The world beyond Rome's white marble sounded divine.  You were swept up in his stories, his eyes, and the lips that kissed you before you left the cell.

“Lucious” “Promise you will keep yourself safe,” he asked of you, forehead on yours. Red lips speaking to you.

“As safe as I can be,” you told him, knowing that the gods would only decide your fate. Another kiss from the man-made your world spin again. As you left, a smile played on your lips back to your gloomy home.  

“Where have you been my betrothed?” Geta asked you as he came walking down twords you. He plucked the book from your hand, causing you to face Geta. 

“I have been here,” you told him. His eyes track your every move. He kept looking at you, disappointment was evident.

“You lie to me. Your emperor,” he told you, a scrolling voice filled the library. Your maid backed away further into the room. 

“I…” you stuttered, unable to find your voice for a reason. 

“You think it does not know about the escapades you partake in?” Geta asked you gesturing to the world outside of the palace. Your head hung low. Worry filled your head, scared he may be the man everyone fears he is. Cruel and unkind. 

“I shall show you why you do not mess with me,” he said. He took your arm in his hands and dragged you away. You looked back as you were pulled away from the library; your maid wept at your leaving. As you looked forward, tears slowly fell from your eyes. That moment you knew would come of your desire to be outside the palace had come. 

You walked out onto the emperor's box landing. There you stood, chained and beaten. Tiny droplets of blood had dried in the corner of your mouth, your cheeks were bruised, and your hair had seen better days. There were minor cuts and bruises along your arms that were not covered by the dress you were strapped in. Once in the stands, the people around you could see. You glanced down at the pits, knowing that when Lucious came out of those wooden gates and saw you, he may try to do something he shouldn't. The crowd grew loud in the stands, many not knowing why they stood in chains.  As those mighty doors opened and Lucious stepped out you wished to scream to him to run. A whimper escaped you when he faced you, the other gladiators entering faded into the background. You watched his face contort with anger; your eyes pleaded with him not to do anything.

“Is this what Roman emperors do? Is this how they treat their women?” he yelled out. 

“It is what we do with women who are unfaithful,” Geta responded, a coolness about his tone and words. You were pulled towards him, crashing into his body. He held your arms and chains tight in his hands. You wanted to cry, scream, and beg someone to set you free. “We must show them that whoever they choose to be with instead of their betrothed…must be killed”.

“No…no, please,” you whispered, begging around the cuff of your neck. You tried to turn to Geta to beg him to not hurt Lucious, but when you looked, your throat closed. He was looking at Lucious, already figuring out what man you had been seeing. The viscous nature of Geta, which you had heard so much about, was finally presented to you. You looked back twords Lucious, those tears you tried your best to hide slowly fell down your cheeks. 

If only you could know how Lucious felt in that moment, watching you be made a villain by the emperor, watching you chained and without freedom. He felt what you felt, every last emotion.

Geta pulled at the chains around your neck to take your eyes off Lucious. Tears now streamed down your face. “You would rather a gladiator, a slave, than me”, he screamed. His face is red with anger, and he looked at you. 

“Yes,” you responded, eyes moving to try and look twords your gladiator. There, Lucious stood proudly watching you as you told the man who had taken you from your home and told you were to marry him without any freedom that you had your freedom to love. Lucious moved closer to the box.

“You should let her go,” Lucious said, “You do not own her.” Many in the crowd started cheering for him, their favorite gladiator. Geta looked stunned by the words leaving Lucious mouth. He looked at the crowd, which was turning into a mob of people yelling twords the emperor to let you go free. The archers around the walls turned onto the people, unsure what to do. Geta himself looked clueless. 

“I am your emperor,” he shouted, “my words and actions are permitted by the gods.” “Maybe your gods, but not mine,” Lucious yelled, angling his sword to be thrown twords the box. As he looked into your eyes, you saw the sea's calm. You released all tension in your limbs and focused just on him. 

Everything changed, however, when General Acacious stormed into the Colosseum with his army. It was as Lucious had said; his family had planned something. The entire might of General Acacius' army stood in the Coliseum, and the emperors looked down in horror. Geta was now lost more, and it looked like he wanted to run. That's when the gladiators in the arena charged twords the emperor's army. No one was allowed to choose a side or talk before fighting erupted. Geta let your chains go; the weight pulled you down a little. You picked them up, allowing you to see the chaos around you. With all the men and swords, you lost sight of Lucious. Before long, one of the guards aimed a sword at you, and you looked at him wide-eyed. Before he could do anything to you, a sword burst from his chest; the guard looked down in shock before he collapsed. Lucious stood behind the man, proud and angry. The day's emotions caught up to you, and you collapsed into his arms. 

“It's alright now,” he spoke to you. The clashing of swords and loud voices filled the space around you. “I am here now.” You looked up into his eyes; a small smile danced on his face.“What has got you so happy?” “You. Saving you and being able to do that…”You could tell that he was finally able to save someone, someone special, and healed something inside of himself. He smiled at you, bright and happy. Freedom never looked so good, especially since freedom meant being with Lucious. As the fight continued in the arena, neither of you were concerned.

[le0n-ardo]

What it's like dating 💙 Rise!Leonardo 💙 - Headcanons and ficlet pt 2

x f!reader. CW for slight angst and for some suggestive headcanons. The ficlet is entirely self-indulgent hurt-comfort my soul needed. Read part 1 here!

Disclaimer: all my writings contemplate the turtles aged up at about their late 20s, with the reader at the same age range. Your media consumption is your own responsibility ✨ dividers by @/cafekitsune

More Ninja Turtle headcanons in my masterlist!

Leonardo surprised you one day with his singing voice. It started off with him just singing a silly tune about how happy he was to finally eat something (he was hungry that day) but he noticed the effect his singing had on you.

Since then, Leon will sing fragments of your favorite songs to you. He mostly does it when you're alone, but it doesn't stop him from dedicating song after song to you on the occasional karaoke night. Sometimes, you'll even duet with him.

Leon behaves similarly when he finds out the effect he has on you when he whispers something only you can hear. He'll of course take advantage from time to time and whisper something spicy, foreshadowing something he wants to do with you later when you're alone.

Other times he'll whisper something completely goofy in your ear. You giggle, but you still get all airy and flustered at his proximity. Leonardo loves seeing your reaction no matter what it was he whispered.

Sometimes, you forget Leonardo actually knows how to play guitar. How he does it with only three fingers is beyond you, but he's quite good. He doesn't play and sing at the same time, though. Usually it's either-or, but music has become a big part of your relationship with Leo.

He also loves when you scratch his shell. If he's feeling cheeky enough, he'll ask you to do it and he'll have the biggest, cutest smile on.

Leonardo loves his alone time with you, but when you're deeper in the relationship and your dates become calm nights spent at home, he doesn't mind letting Donnie or even Mikey tag along (so longs as you're okay with it, and obviously so long as you two aren't planning on being intimate).

If Mikey's tagging along, the date will be goofiness galore and you can be sure there's going to be some sort of physical competition involved. You love watching Leonardo compete with Mikey - Leon will always show off to impress you as if he were still courting you, but he'll also balance it with cutting his little brother some slack just to see him happy.

If Donnie's tagging along, it's similar, but with video games. You and Donnie become great friends very quickly, and most times, the date consists of you and Donnie teasing and picking on Leon.

Leonardo, of course, makes sure you'll make up for teasing him afterwards 😉

For a while, you spend every night with him in his room. Cuddling, talking, telling jokes, making out, taking it one step further, you name it. Not every night is the same, and sometimes you're both so tired that you only cuddle for a bit before falling asleep, but they're still nights spent in Leonardo's arms and you love all of them.

Leonardo will go out of his way to show you how great you are, from giving you a flower or a thingamabob he found that made him think of you to actually telling you you're amazing, usually in the form of him bragging about you to one of his brothers.

There was, however, one time when Donatello (albeit jokingly) asked you, "What do you see in this guy?"

Leonardo acted all nonchalant about it, flexing and highlighting every single awesome thing about himself, but when the laughter died down and the subject changed, you could tell he was quieter and he was making just a little less eye contact with you.

Why is she with me?

That night, you got a pizza just for you and him to share in his room and you spoiled him with his favorite Jupiter Jim movie, which you watched in bed while eating and afterwards cuddling and making out during the boring scenes. When the movie ended, you both lay in Leonardo's bed and nearly fell asleep when you heard him speak.

"I know why you're doing all this," he said.

You simply turned around and gave him a light kiss on the lips, telling him how much you love him, and you also told him not to forget that. It seemed to reassure him, and you could tell his spirits were back to their usual level the next few days.

But after some weeks, you notice Leon is a lot busier with his brothers. They train a lot harder and they go on more missions. Leonardo lets you sleep in his room and tells you not to wait up for him if he knows he'll be out with his brothers - he hates the idea of you losing sleep and being all groggy the next day all because of him.

But Leonardo also hates the idea of you wanting to spend time with him and not being there with you.

If you fall asleep while he's still out in the city, you'll eventually be woken up by the sound of him arriving at his room and lying down next to you. You never know how late it is or what happened out there, but all you hear is a heavy sigh leaving him before he falls asleep.

The following morning, you usually wake up with Leonardo clinging to you, still asleep. When he does that, you gently stroke the top of his head and hold him closer, kissing him soft enough to not wake him up.

For as long as that goes on, Leonardo wakes up and acts as if nothing were wrong. He greets you lovingly, kisses you until you're both breathless, and behaves like his usual, charming, witty self. Still, you could swear that whenever his brothers make mention of the next upcoming mission or any reference to him being the one leading the squad now, you see a hint of dread flashing through Leon's eyes just for a moment.

You always figure Leonardo will talk to you about whatever bothers him when he's ready, and in the meantime, you keep showing him affection and support in whatever ways you can. Sometimes you leave food out for him for when he returns late from a mission, other times you'll get him little gifts or cheer him on during training or while he's working out.

Leonardo never verbally thanks you for this, but you do notice how tightly he holds you after one of your gestures - and how long it takes for him to let you go.

But the time goes by and you see him becoming more tense about his position as a leader. You try to cheer him up, but all Leonardo really wants is your comfort and your warmth.

If he's too shaken up about everything, he'll sometimes try and seek respite through intimacy. Those nights are particularly passionate, but it breaks your heart to see the weight returning to his eyes when he comes down from his high.

Eventually, you verbally let Leonardo know he has your full support no matter what, and that you believe in him as a leader. When you do this, Leonardo falls silent, and though it seems he won't react at all for a few moments, he then hugs you close and you both stay there a good long while.

The first months of his leadership were hardest for him, but a string of successful missions soon help Leon build his confidence, and eventually his vibrant personality returns. It's a whole new look on him - witty and brave, charming and stoic. He will bring laughter to his loved ones and doom to his enemies.

You love that duality in Leonardo. Dammit, you love all of him.

Leonardo having a free night to spend with you instead of being off on a mission felt like a rarity and a luxury, one that you would cherish. You could tell he would too, as was obvious by the fact that you weren't getting obscene amounts of food or planning for a move marathon in his room. He'd simply told you to follow him, and in a blur, you'd greeted Hueso in his restaurant and made your way with Leon past the back - one of the many perks of his lingering friendship with Hueso - climbing up the stairs until you reached the rooftop and took the door out. It was a decently sized building, one where you'd have both a magnificent view of the city and a decent view of whatever stars could survive all the light reflecting from below.

All Leonardo carried was a couple of blankets and a thermos with some warm liquid you still had yet to discover, and two plastic cups. He had told you to dress warm, and he was wearing a coat over his shell too. With all that, you knew you were in for a calm night, despite clinging to him as he led you through the mildly sketchy mutant restaurant where you were the sore thumb sticking out. It didn't matter; you felt safe so long as you were with your Leon. There was no one you'd trust more for that.

Leonardo swiftly set the blankets down and made a comfy makeshift mattress for you both, and you both lied down on it in silence. Neither of you rushed to pour any warm beverages yet. It seemed like for the time being, all you needed was to be there in silence with each other. You could have arguably done the same in his bedroom, but you'd noticed Leonardo's silence the past few nights. You knew what he'd never say out loud, you could see it in his eyes, hear it between the words he actually spoke. Leadership was a heavy burden, one that could put pressure even on the hardest shell, no matter how much he wanted to coop himself up inside it to protect himself from all he had to face.

You shifted onto your side and looked at Leonardo as he gazed up at the night sky. "Wanna tell me what's bothering you?"

He smiled softly, and the sight made you smile too - not only was he handsome with a gorgeous smile, but for some reason, his side profile was perfectly pleasing to look at.

"I knew you'd ask," he said.

"You wouldn't have brought me out here if you didn't want me to," you said. "So... is it anything I can help with?"

Leonardo sighed. "I don't even want to think about getting you in the crossfire."

"Has it been that bad?" Your brows dropped in worry. If you'd had any idea of the missions being too dangerous, you would have reached out sooner.

"Not... bad, just..." Leonardo's voice was smooth and only slightly higher pitched, as though draped with some sort of sadness. With another sigh, he sat up and crossed his legs in front of him letting his gaze fall to the city. "Don't tell anyone, but I don't know how Raph did it. Especially back then, when we were all a mess. I was..."

"Hey," you sat up and gently rested your hand on his coated shell. "None of us were our best when we were that age."

"Raph was," Leonardo replied. "He always seemed to be. I want to ask him how he got us through so much, but..."

"It wouldn't be admitting you can't do what he did, if that's what's stopping you," you said. "Raph has faith in you, I know it."

Leonardo gave a soft exhale and let his facial features soften in a way he'd only ever let you see. "I hope it's not misplaced."

"Are you worried they'll get hurt on your watch?" You said the words like ripping off a bandaid.

In response, Leonardo looked at you with a brief fear in his eyes, a result of hearing you say out loud what he dreaded every time he led his brothers into whatever mission they had.

"It's okay," you said, rubbing your hand over his shell for comfort. "It's a valid fear. But Leon... I look at you and know that you were meant to lead this family. This team."

"They didn't choose me, Splinter did," he retaliated.

"Because Splinter sees all that you're capable of, and so do your brothers," you comforted. "And so do I."

Leonardo looked at you with a soft smile. "Really?"

"You're my champion, Leonardo," you smiled at him.

He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours. He wasn't beaming with pride - his aura was that of gratitude.

"Leon, I know it sucks to doubt yourself," you said softly. "I do it too. I always like to think I'm wise for my years and really smart and then I go and mess something up and when I do, it haunts me..."

"No, don't go there," Leonardo said. "I don't want you doing this to yourself too."

"Well, I don't want you doing that to yourself either," you reached for his hand and squeezed it. "We're in this together."

As he squeezed your hand in return, Leonardo chuckled softly. "We're a little messed up, aren't we?"

You nodded with a smile. "Yeah. I guess it comes with having grown up."

Leonardo laughed more fully. "Damn right."

You looked at him again and leaned your head on his shoulder. "I mean it. You're my champion. You always will be."

He looked at you with soft eyes. "And no amount of mistakes you make will ever make me love you less."

You fought the urge to tear up at his words. "Ditto, Leon."

You both leaned in close rubbed your noses together in the sweetest manner before you locked lips for a soft kiss. When you pulled apart, your gaze drifted over to the thermos that rested next to Leonardo on the ground. "So what's in there?"

He chuckled. "Your favorite."

Your whole gaze lit up. "Beer?"

He laughed. "Your favorite warm beverage." Leonardo reached for the thermos and one of the cups. "It's decaf."

You reached for the cup of coffee and inhaled the rich scent of coffee, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "That's why you're my hero."

Sorry the fic was so self-indulgent. I hope you enjoyed it and the headcanons too! You can see my masterlist for more if you want!

Reblogs are appreciated! 💙

[lapisnotlazuli]

Calling Lapis fans/defenders "gooners" is insanely closed minded of people. Steven Universe is a show where things aren't black and white because it is written realistically. Just because someone takes the time to understand or defend a character doesn't mean they just like the character for their looks.

Lapis was used over and over again. First she was put in the mirror and used that way, then by Peridot and Jasper as a source of information, then by Jasper in a fusion. She never even wanted to be part of a war, she got caught up in one and it took thousands of years to escape.

Jasper was abusive and it's implied/can be assumed she was physical with Lapis on the ship (if anybody wants I can go into detail on this). Lapis had one chance to save Steven. She didn't want to be used again and she snapped back. Jasper was fully ready to use her, Lapis was reacting in a fight/flight mode. Sure she WAS by the ocean but could she really summon the water before Jasper hurt/shattered her and went after Steven? In a life or death situation you don't think logically. Her first instinct wasn't even to fight, she tries to run and Jasper grabs her. Maybe there were other solutions but it mainly feels like victim blaming. Jasper was ready to use Lapis for power and Lapis knew this. Lapis very much just reacted. Why does she have to be a perfect victim to Jasper's force/abuse? Why do people forget how logic can fly out the door in a life or death scenario? Sure she could have done things differently but SU writes her realistically, people being abused don't always make the prettiest choices.

Once Lapis got to Earth, she had a day before another gem who used her (Peridot) started to try to be her friend. She just wasn't ready for that. Peridot sorry might have felt genuine from Peridot's POV but to Lapis it just sounded like "sorry I used you but you were just really useful lol". Apologies with a "but" often feel so half hearted and like the situation was actually just the receivers fault. Of course, Lapis shouldn't have yelled or broke the tape recorder but she had tried to just say no earlier. She didn't go straight to yelling like people act like she did. She was pushed past a point and snapped. Both gems in this episode could have handled it better.

Putting that aside, they become great friends later and are close!! However there's only about a year between this and her finding out the diamonds were aware of Earth. She didn't have time to heal in that year- no human would and a year is almost nothing to gems. She wanted to keep Peridot safe, that's why she tried to take Peridot with her. Even though Peridot wanted to stay, Lapis was too scared to. She snapped at Peridot because she was scared for herself and Peridot. Peridot was era 2, she would have never known the war like Lapis did. Of course, yelling and taking the barn wasn't the right thing but it is not black and white. Judging based off future and the end of S5, they talked and Lapis most likely apologized.

Lapis did do things wrong but she still isn't a bad person. The fandom seems to think someone has to be perfect to be a good person but the truth is noone is perfect.

She could've done things differently and she could've done the "right" thing several times but she grew and changed after her choices. She came back to help defend Earth- she came back to Peridot. I wish people didn't just hate her to make another character look better. Lapis is a good person who was used over and over again, of course she had some flaws. But at the end of the day what matters is the nuance of the situation.

I will always defend Lapis because people never take more than 5 seconds to understand her. Black and white thinking is far to common especially in this fandom.

[nautical-language]

Cowboy Carter - Why it matters that Beyonce finally won Album of the Year at the Grammy’s for this album, specifically.

I grew up listening to exclusively modern country and classic rock, genres which both owe their existence to Black people (and by Black I do mean African American) but have been whitewashed.

I have literally had Cowboy Carter on repeat since it came out; easily my favorite country album of all time, if not just my favorite album, period.

If you don’t wanna read it all, here’s the short version: Cowboy Carter is a truly seamless blend of country and other musical styles that pays homage to the genre’s greatest musicians and mirrors the ways Black music has transformed, and been transformed by, U.S. culture. Never forget: the only musical genres that were created in the U.S. (jazz, hip-hop, rock, country, and more) were created by Black people.

Although it’s a country album—and it IS, undeniably, a country album!—Cowboy Carter is structured like a classic hip-hop album, including an “anthem” song that intros and outros the album (“AMERIICAN REQIUEM”) and intermissions where other famous stars of the country genre dap up Queen Bey.

Specifically, white country music legends Willie Nelson and Dolly Parton introduce the album/songs. That’s not just significant because they’re white or because they’re genre icons, but ALSO because they are icons of the country music era that—while predominantly white—actually still focused on the OG working class, blue collar themes of the genre. (Explaining how country music has changed over time is something I can’t even get into here, but the point is that Beyonce had white authentic country music legends introduce her album, as opposed to modern country music stars. It legitimizes the album as a country album the same way having a more famous rapper introduce your song/album would legitimize it as true rap.)

The first half of Cowboy Carter is much more “classically country,” while the second half is a bolder blend of country with other genres. In the intermission where Willie Nelson introduces the back half of the album, he literally says, “I’m here because sometimes it takes someone you trust to turn you onto some real good shit.” It’s this beautiful moment of authentic artistry and cultural exchange, because not only is Willie Nelson introducing white country lovers to Black music, Beyonce has also introduced Black r&b/hip-hop/rap fans to country music.

People who think Beyonce did a country album to prove she can cross genres like taylor swift are completely missing the point. First of all, Cowboy Carter is the second in a planned album trilogy, with each album paying homage to a different musical genre/group of genres created by Black people. The first installment was Renaissance, a trap/house album. Beyonce had originally planned to start the trilogy with Cowboy Carter, but chose to release Renaissance first in 2022 because she felt like “people needed to dance.”

As part of Beyonce’s career, Cowboy Carter also exists in a very specific context: https://www.vulture.com/article/beyonce-cmas-the-chicks-oral-history.html. After all the shit that happened during and after Beyonce’s performance of “Daddy Lessons” at the 2016 CMAs, “Cowboy Carter” didn’t even get NOMINATED at this year’s CMAs (and then it won this year’s grammy for best country album AND album of the year, so FUCK those racist assholes). Beyonce literally referenced the 2016 CMAs in the instagram post announcing Cowboy Carter.

In my mind, Billboard and the CMAs snubbing Lil Naz X’s wildly popular “Old Town Road” in 2019 must’ve only added fuel to the fire.*

So the planned album trilogy — and, of course, Cowboy Carter in particular — are a reaction to the whitewashing of genres created by Black people and the cultural appropriation that happens when modern Black artists are excluded from the genres they/their predecessors created.

*Note that Beyonce paired up with Miley Cyrus for “II MOST WANTED” on Cowboy Carter. Why would that matter? Because Miley’s dad is country artist Billy Ray Cyrus, who was notably one of the only modern white country musicians to publicly condemn the industry for its treatment of Lil Nas X’s “Old Town Road,” to the point that Billy Ray Cyrus literally did a version of Old Town Road with Lil Nas X as a way of legitimizing the song as real country music.

Other standout moments on the album—and these are just the ones I’ve caught:

-“BLACKBIIRD” (2nd song on the album) has Beyonce and 4 other, less well-known WOC cover the beatles’ “Blackbird,” which Paul McCartney wrote in honor of the Black women of the U.S. civil rights movement.

-At the end of “DAUGHTER,” Beyonce seamlessly transitions into the operatic aria “Caro Mio Ben.” If that doesn’t tell you what a flawless genre-blender this album is, I don’t know what will.

-Track 10 is “JOLENE,” which is Beyonce’s version of Dolly Parton’s song of the same name. Beyonce’s cover directly mirrors the way white artists took over the country music genre by covering and sampling songs originally created by Black artists.

-Every single track is a bop, but IMO, the album’s crowning achievement is “YA YA.” The song is amazing, and my favorite moment is when Beyonce does an impression of Elvis, who built his reputation as the King of Rock and Roll by doing an impression of Chuck Berry. “YA YA” features samples from country songs created or made famous by white artists (“These Boots Are Made For Walking” by Nancy Sinatra and “Good Vibrations” by The Beach Boys, plus a ton of other references—literally just go read YA YA’s Genius page), once again intentionally subverting the phenomenon of white artists covering Black artist’s music and receiving greater acclaim.

[sylus-little-meow-meow]

The Sleepover: Part 3

She's back with Sylus again.

But it's that day. 

The day she finally decided to end things. 

He's standing in “their” room, his gaze distant, like always and that's something she could never change no matter how many times she tried.

She could wear the most gorgeous gowns or a potato sack and he'd simply give her a once over and a non committal “you look lovely” before he went back to whatever he was doing, his gaze never lingering. 

He's changing out of his robe and into something more befitting of a leader. 

She's never even seen him in casual wear. 

Sylvia: Sylus?

Sylus: Yes, kitten?

He doesn't look in her direction, doesn't note the shift in her tone.

Sylvia looks at her fingers.

Sylvia: You're never going to love me in the way I do you, are you?

The man freezes on the spot, his fingertips hovering over a black button down before he withdraws his hand.

Sylus: Where is this coming from all of a sudden?

Sylvia gives a laugh, but it's hollow just like this entire relationship.

Sylvia: You're dancing around the question. You don't want to answer it, do you?

Sylus: Kitten—

He turns around but she slips off of the bed, fighting back tears as she yanks off the shit she tried using to impress Sylus in the bedroom, the see through nightgown about as appetizing to him as a box  of  stale crackers. 

She's biting her lip so hard it's almost bleeding.

What's worse?

Having an ex so obsessed with you to the point they'd kill one of the most precious people in your life?

Or one who doesn't care at all?

Granted, at least with Sylus she'd still have her older sister. 

But she doesn't have either because her love life is a mess and every man she chooses is just…

She shouldn't feel hurt towards Sylus. 

This is nothing in comparison to what she went through, but the frustration of him agreeing to date her despite the fact he probably knew he'd never love her is too much.

Because she loves him.

Right down to her core she knows she's fallen in love with him.

And that's why she needs to let him go.

This will always be one sided and it's become clear there's someone else out there he's looking for.

She can see it in the way his gaze sweeps over every destination, like some part of him is missing and maybe he thought it was her once upon a time, but now they both know better.

It isn't her.

So she goes to the closet, moving him out of the way as she begins to collect her things.

Her jaw is clenched and her eyes are hard. 

Outwardly she'll show anger, yet on the inside she's crying for him to stop her.

For some small part of him to care.

Sylus: What are you doing, kitten?

Sylvia: Nothing you need to worry about. I'm done here. This was fun, but I think it's time we cut things off. 

Sylus looks down at her.

She internally pleads for him to hold her back, to lightly grab her wrist, to ask her to stop what she's doing but he doesn't.

Instead he steps back.

Sylus: If that's what you truly want, kitten.

Her hand pauses.

Sylvia: If you really think this is what I want you should go fuck yourself. 

She yanks the last piece of clothing off the hanger and spins towards him, the tears threatening to spill over, but she won't allow them to because Sylus doesn't deserve her vulnerability.

Sylvia: I wanted love and I wanted a partner. You've made it clear you don't want to act as either of those for me. You're not even present in this relationship.

Sylus stares at her, the quiet expanding between them and her outburst.

There's not even a flair or hint of emotion in his eyes. 

She wants to cry. 

She wants to scream.

She wants to throw something just to get him to react to her presence at all. 

But she doesn't.

Instead she stalks past him, her gaze trained forward, eyes on a door that will open and shut for the very last time.

Sylvia: Send me the rest of my things when you get the chance. Try not to forget because I know half the time you forgot I was even your girlfriend. Have a nice life, Sylus.

She says and then slams the door behind her.

When she sees Mephisto, she ducks her head to hide oncoming tears.

It's over.

They're done. 

The memory turned dream fades as a cool hand brushes against her forehead. 

Sylvia: Sylus…?

She murmurs, nuzzling her face into that same hand, pressing it more into her cheek with her own.

Sylvia: Did you come back for me…?

Her voice cracks, tears seeping through her closed eyes.

She buries her face into his palm. Did he finally see her after all this time?

The voice doesn't say anything, but the hand tries pulling away and Sylvia clings tighter, not wanting to let go of this one small gesture. 

Sylvia: Don't go. 

Sylvia: Please. 

She sounds pathetic, pleading like this, but she can't help it. 

If he's here now, even if this is a dream, she doesn't want to let him go. She wants him to stay.

She's completely forgotten that Sylus already moved on with another.

All she knows is that one small gesture from Sylus proving that their time meant something to him would mean everything to her. 

Sylvia: Don't go.

She says again and feels the hand shift, no longer trying to pull away and her body relaxes as a second one brushes the hair out of her face.

They're surprisingly gentle. 

Caring. 

She manages to slip into a peaceful sleep, feeling the hands of someone who cares about her.

                        ************************************

Felix awoke to the sounds of Sylvia calling out in her sleep.

He got up off the couch and found her tangled up in her bedsheets, her face flushed and beads of sweat trickling into her hairline.

Did she feel sick?

Did she need to throw up?

He approached her and gently touched her cheek.

Then he heard a name.

Sylvia: Sylus…?

She said it so quietly, her voice cracking at the last syllable.

Felix stiffened and attempted to pull away, not wanting to confuse her if she fully woke up.

But she held fast.

She asked Sylus to stay.

And it killed Felix that it wasn't him she was asking, but some other man.

He swallowed his pride, ducking his head as he warred with himself, wondering if there was even a right choice.

In the end, the hopeful expression on Sylvia's face—her eyes still closed—made him shift closer and brush the strands of hair off of her forehead with gentle finger tips. 

She relaxed then, a content smile finding its way to her lips. 

Felix didn't leave until he knew she was fully asleep.

She didn't need to wake up and have her dreams crushed when she realized it was him.

Felix goes to leave, but pauses at the doorway, looking back at Sylvia, her silver hair mussed, her face clear of makeup which softens her features.

It's looking at her that Felix realizes Sylvia wasn't the only one in this room with an unrequited love, wondering what it would be like if Sylvia looked at him like she did with Sylus.

He'll probably never know.

He won't ask that of her.

She's got more on her plate than just a man who didn't return her feelings.

So he gently shuts the door behind him and pads over to the couch, lying in wake for the rest of the night.

[yvaineseleneposts]

We never talk about it

Requested: no

A/N: based on the song Sharpest tool by Sabrina Carpenter

Pairing: Nico Hischier x reader

Words: around 1k

Warning(s): a little sad story

It started with a simple text. A "Hey" on a random Tuesday. Nico always did that—showed up when I was just starting to move on, like some ghost from the past refusing to be exorcised.

I stared at my phone, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Ignore him. You don’t need to go through this again. But, like every other time, I gave in.

"Hey," I replied, knowing damn well where this was going to lead.

We had been something once—something undefined, something thrilling, something that left me constantly second-guessing. I met his friends, laughed at their stupid inside jokes, and even spent nights tangled in his sheets. But then, just like that, he’d disappear. He’d act like none of it ever mattered. Like I didn’t matter.

I should have known better.

___

"You know you’re not the sharpest tool in the shed, right?" I teased one night, lying on his couch, his arm lazily draped over me. His phone face down on the couch next to him. He said it was just a habit, but I knew better. I just never wanted to admit it.

Nico laughed, shaking his head. "Wow, way to boost my confidence."

"Hey, I’m just saying. You forget things easily. One second, we're good, and then—poof—you’re gone."

He didn’t respond. He just pressed a soft kiss to my temple and changed the subject. That was the thing about Nico. He never wanted to talk about it.

And then one day, he took a left. Out of nowhere, he was gone. Again. No explanation. Just radio silence.

___

A week turned into a month. The empty texts and late-night calls that used to fill my phone became just…nothing. I didn’t hear a word until the guilt crept in—until he decided to send a soft, "Hey" as if he hadn’t just shattered me.

I should have ignored it.

But I didn’t.

"What do you want, Nico?" I finally asked after weeks of keeping my emotions bottled up.

"I—I don’t know," he admitted.

And that was the worst part. He didn’t know. He never knew. And I was an idiot for thinking he ever would. I spent so much time trying to decipher him, trying to find meaning in the spaces between his words, in the pauses between his texts.

Did he miss me? Did he ever care? Or was I just something to pass the time?

The worst part was, I could never ask. We never talked about it. Because if we talked about it, we’d have to face it. And Nico wasn’t ready for that.

___

I found out through a friend.

"He was at his ex’s place last night." That single sentence made my stomach drop. It shouldn’t have hurt. He wasn’t mine. He never was. But it did.

"Did he say anything about me?" I asked, hating myself for even caring.

She hesitated. "He…he said he found God."

I let out a humorless laugh. "At his ex’s house?"

She shrugged. "I don’t know, maybe he’s just trying to figure things out." Figure things out. Right. That was always his excuse.

___

It happened overnight. One day, I was the person he turned to when he was lost, when he needed someone to anchor him. The next, I was the villain in his story.

His silence was the loudest thing I had ever heard. I tried to talk to him, to get some kind of closure. But he wouldn’t let me.

I opened up to him. Told him things I never told anyone. And he made me believe he cared. Then he logged out. Disappeared. Left me dumbfounded. And still, we never talked about it.

___

The silence was a strategy, I realized. Because no matter how much time passed, he was still there. Top of mind. Always.

I hated him for that. Hated myself more for letting him hold that power over me. But I wasn’t going to waste another year wondering if it meant something to him. If I was just another casual mistake. I wasn’t going to be an idiot anymore. So I finally did what I should have done a long time ago.

I let him go. And this time, I didn’t look back.

Months passed, and the ache dulled. It didn’t disappear, but it became manageable.

Every now and then, I'd check my phone, half-expecting a message. But I stopped hoping.

One day, I ran into him at a coffee shop. He looked at me, eyes wide, like he had seen a ghost. I nodded, a polite acknowledgment, and walked past him.

For the first time, I didn’t feel the urge to talk to him.

Maybe we never talked about it, but I had my answer now.

Some things don’t need to be said. Some stories don’t need an ending.

They just…end.

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Scrap baby is just Michael’s little sister

[xx-psych0-rabbit-xx]

kirbtober day 6 -royalty

king and queen.

[sieglinde-freud]

let it be known that i love prince inigo with my whole soul. however sometimes it is SO much fun to think about owain and his two most loyal-est knights you ever seen: worst guy in the world #1 and worst guy in the world #2. i love retainer inigo and severa so much. retainers who bully you and make fun of you and trash on you but they’d leave behind everyone and everything they ever knew to follow you and protect you in a whole new universe. they love you so much that they’d swear allegiance to total strangers but that loyalty pales in comparison to what they’d do for you. and they were all lovers!!!!!!!

[twelvemartha]

3.06 // 3.07

[protect-namine]

I actually have a fic idea but lc is a show that's like. you will never ever have all the information and context until the end. and I am a writer who writes best and more confidently when I have all the info and context at my fingertips. so now I'm just like 🧍‍♂️

anyway. ramble in the tags

[tenwhiteandalusians]

pertaining to the idea of tenax’s band of strays i do think it’s touching that the kids are the ones who saved him and waited outside the door to make sure he’s okay. for all tenax claims to be harsh and cruel it’s a fine indicator of his character that the kids won’t rest without him and are there every time he’s in danger.

[her0maris]

apologies in advance i need to get a teeny bit Too Real for this one but. i lost someone irl and for a year or two afterwards i kept imagining what it’d be like to have her back again. but the thing is that everyone kept growing and changing and we were different now and losing her had changed us in ways that wouldn’t have happened otherwise. so i kept imagining the horror of like. she’s back and she’s exactly the same and we’re all different now and she doesn’t fit anymore. anyways i think you could make a really bangin fic by doing that with mari and the faraway gang